My Father's Gift Read Online Free PDF

understand it themselves. 
    “Well,” he thought, “We’re just going to ride this out until we both understand it implicitly.  I really wish that I hadn’t told her that I would call her today.  My Father said wait, so I’m going to have to wait.  I hope she’ll understand.  And if she doesn’t, it’s out of my hands.”
    Realizing he had to stop agonizing over the situation since he had no control over it, he decided to immerse himself in the business at hand.  He picked up the phone and asked his secretary to come to his office.
    “Debbie,” he said to the sedate young woman who came into the room, with notebook and pen in hand, “I need you to call Doug Mason at Trevarris Cadillac.  Schedule a meeting for this afternoon at three, if he’s available.  If not, reschedule for first thing tomorrow morning.  I’ve looked over the new contract and I don’t like the changes he’s trying to incorporate.  I’m going over to Dexter House and I’ll be there for the next couple of hours, if you need me.  Tell Frank to make sure the limousines are cleaned before they’re sent out for their next trip.”
    “Okay, Mr. Recinoire,” Debbie responded as she scribbled on her note pad.
    “See you later, Debbie.  Call me if you think Doug is trying to avoid me.  Otherwise, leave a message on the desk if you’re not going to be here when I get back.”
    “Mr. Recinoire, are you expecting your children to come down today?” Debbie asked, just before she left the room.
    “No, but if they do; put them to work doing something productive.” He smiled as he thought about his children actually doing something productive.  They never wanted to do any work, but they always wanted money.  Fortunately he didn’t have any problems with either of them.  They knew when he was in a playful mood and when he wasn’t and most of the time he wasn’t.  Don was a six foot four-inch athlete, who lived and breathed basketball.  He was a senior in high school and had never caused Cal any problems.  Kathy, who was eighteen months younger than her brother, wanted to try gaining her independence from household rules, but when he allowed her to play grown-up, complete with making decisions and paying bills out of her allowance, it didn’t last very long.  She had decided that life was easier being daddy’s little girl, which entailed doing chores around the house, keeping her grades up and participating in church, which she loved anyway.  She didn’t appear to be too interested in boys, yet, but Cal knew he was going to have his hands full when she did get interested.
    Picking up his briefcase and coat on the way out of the office, he looked at his watch and realized it was later than he had thought.  He had promised some of the boys he would be at Dexter House by lunchtime. 
    “Considering the fact that I was up almost the entire night, I guess I’d be surprised if I did know what time it is,” he thought.
    The Royal Chariot office was only a few miles from Dexter House so it didn’t take him long to get there.  He checked in with the front desk and proceeded to his office at the end of the corridor.  The youth home was an old school building, renovated to house the fifty boys that lived there.  The bricks on the outside of the building were so age-grimed that there was probably no one who could tell what the original color was.  The tiled floors in the hallways always looked like they needed to be cleaned, but he knew they were cleaned regularly.  Like the outside bricks, age had taken its toll on the tiles.  The home housed boys from ten to seventeen years old.  Most were here because their parents either couldn’t do anything with them or they were runaways.  At least living here, they were off the streets and usually stayed out of trouble.  As long as the boys followed the rules, they could stay until they were seventeen, when most were declared emancipated teenagers.  Most of them left before